I Couldn’t Let This One Go…

Normally I leave my children out of my blogging but sometimes I have to make an exception. Like today.

First thing you have to know? My son and daughter have their own unique-to-them personalities. Of course all the funny goodness they get from me, and the meh, not-so-much-to-write-home-about, they get from Honey. Today I’m sharing my daughter’s day out with my mom. That would be yesterday. I cried laughing as soon as the texts started to pour in. All this funny goodness? Yeah, *puffs chest out proudly* my daughter did get from me. Here’s the setup. My girl comes over to pick Nanny up so I can write without feeling guilty. Did I mention that my mom is queen of the proverbial guilt trips? No? Well, she’s also queen of denial so when you call her on the guilt thing she denies, denies, denies. Anyways, the plan was they were going to go to the bank, one department store

Mom?

My girl is smart enough to know that if I’m in the writing zone she could text until the cows walked through our doors and I wouldn’t answer. Lucky for her I wasn’t in the zone yet.

Problem?

Nanny doesn’t want to go into the bank she wants me to teach her how to use the ATM!

There’s me think, Oh boy, we have a problem. Not only has my mother never used an ATM she doesn’t even have a card for one. I hope it doesn’t—

The machine ate her card.

Me thinking: Too late, and just perfect. All right. Take her into the bank. The ladies love her. Oh, and get them to order her a new visa.

K.

Ten minutes later or could have been fifteen my cell beeps.

Mom?

What now?

We’re still at the bank. Nanny sat down to rest and I think she fell asleep.

Again perfect. She’s not sleeping she’s people watching.

Through closed eyes?!

I let out a big sigh. The poor trusting cherub. Yes! She has eyes in the back of her head. Just give her a nudge and get a move on before she really falls asleep.

K.

Twenty minutes later. Mom?

I was actually getting in the writing groove and didn’t want to answer.

Hello???

What now?

Should Nanny be shopping for a coat?

Coat? Being that I was frying my ass off with the windows and doors open today this was interesting. What kind of coat?

Long, warm. Not navy.

Wth?

*Shrug*

Me shaking my head and texting back. No!

Ten more minutes goes by and my phone beeps. Does she need pots and pans?

Pots and pans? The woman hasn’t cooked since Reagan was president. She doesn’t even have an oven in her in-law suite so, yeah, no. What do you think?

But she said she wanted to make roast chicken.

At this point I can’t decide whether my mom is screwing with my daughter or my daughter is screwing with me. Either way this whole situation was ridiculous so I decided to screw with both of them.

Well let me see…that would be awesome, but you might want to buy her a stove first.

Very funny. So she doesn’t need pots and pans? You’re sure?

Now that’s funny.

Mom!

Get her out of the department store.

Which one? This is the second one and she wants to go to Macy’s next!

Tell her no.

Oh God. She says she wants to buy some sheets. Does she need sheets?

Not really, but if she wants to buy them let her. What happened to the coat?

The beige was too bright and she didn’t want a navy one. I’d say she was doing the Goldilocks thing, but instead of three tries it was like 96! Help me! >.<

I feel for you baby.

Haha! I feel for you. She just invited the cashier to dinner. Hm. Maybe I should let her buy those pots and pans after all.

Not today.

Okay, pray for me we’re getting back into the car and I’m going to the grocery store with her.

Bless you child.

Twenty minutes later I got another text.

Oh, mom?

I’m here.

Does Nanny need anything else besides wine?

I’m thinking Nanny needs everything besides wine. Don’t let her buy that!

Left the crowbar at home so the wine is coming with us.

Ugh!

I should probably mention here that my 90-pound-when-she-was-soaking-wet-mom with a glass of wine in her becomes Joan Rivers on crack. Suddenly family secrets fly out of the vault propelled by her rapier wit at record speed. Not good.

Mom? Anything else to buy?

Yeah, buy me some wine. I’m going to need it.

Funny.

I know.

Nope, funny is Nanny trying to set me up with the 50 year-old fish guy.

Oh dear.

Man, she really knows how to kill a piece of your soul, doesn’t she?

Do tell.

She just told me we’d make a great couple.

LOL! I think your boyfriend would have something to say about that.

Doubt it. The last time Mike spoke to Nanny she told him his hands were so soft they felt as if he’d never worked a day in his life.

Get out!

Uh oh! Gotta go.

Next text: Nanny’s hitting up the deli guy for his phone number.

Next text: For me.

Next text: *cries* He looks like he’s 80.

Next text: Bald.

I text back: I’m dying laughing.

Next text: So is he and he’s missing a few teeth.

Next text: OMG!!!!!

Next text: He gave it to her and winked at me.

I wiped the tears aside and typed, So when are you going out?

Mom!

Just bring the little matchmaker home so she can crush my soul after she swills back her wine.

K.

Annnd five minutes later? Mom?

Where are you?

Nanny’s buying me lunch.

Nice.

She ordered a vodka giblet.

That’s gimlet and my condolences. Wine unlocks the vault but vodka? Blows it to smithereens. Have fun.

0.o Did I call her an old lady when I was five?

Yep. Truthfully I couldn’t remember but it sounded about right.

Really? Nanny can’t remember what she had for breakfast this morning, but she remembers I wouldn’t drink ginger ale at her house because it was warm?

Wow, sounds like it’s going to be a great LONG lunch! Enjoy!

Mom.

Mom?

Mom!

When my daughter got home looking ten years older than when she went out, all I said was, “Sorry, but there was no need of both of us suffering through lunch, right?”

She was just about to answer when my mom shouted, “Thanks sweetheart! I had a great time. See you next Monday.”

“Next Monday?”

My usually affable girl scowled just like Honey, and grumbled, “Yes. Somewhere between her lambasting me for not drinking her warm ginger ale and picking her petunia’s for a bouquet for you—”

“You were only three-years-old.”

“Nanny’s decided I should take her out every Monday on my days off.”

“Cool.”

“Did you really threaten to run away when Nanny forbid you to see daddy after he bought his motorcycle?”

Hm…maybe not so cool, I thought then. After all, the last thing I needed was my mom giving my girl ideas carved right out of my very creative and colorful past. Eek.

“Nanny told you that?” I tried to sound shocked so she could glean from that what she would because I wasn’t admitting or denying anything.

“She also told me…”

*Turns to look right at you with owl eyes* Mondays with Nanny were cancelled with a capital C! The woman had no filters. Fortunately this time she spilled about everyone else in the family, but it was only a matter of time before she got back to talking about me and Honey and *insert me tugging on my collar here* we couldn’t have that. No way.

*Takes a calming breath* then *insert light bulb moment here*

OMG!!! My mother is a genius. She’d been after me for months to set a day a week aside to spend with her and when I didn’t she…she…she manipulated me into it! Because you gotta know after yesterday and the spilling of some sensitive info I had no choice but to tell my daughter she was off the hook and I’d take over Monday Nanny duty.

*thinking* *smiles* *smiles wider* Hot damn! The old gal’s still got it. I love my mom!!!

Riley who is currently contemplating taking notes on Mondays. There’s probably some great story material buried beneath all those interesting skeletons. Heheheh.